


in the lane, snow is glistening

by rosytonics



Series: the defenders' messy holiday extravaganza [3]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Central Park, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosytonics/pseuds/rosytonics
Summary: Matt plants his cane in the snow and rests both hands on top of it. The city grows quiet as a snowflake falls onto his eyelash. It melts, and a drop of water builds on his eyelash and falls. It splashes against his cheek and a gust of wind chills it almost to a freezing point. The snow in this section of the park smells crisp and clean. It’s peaceful, and Matt basks in it before all Hell breaks loose.





	in the lane, snow is glistening

**Author's Note:**

> hooray!! more holiday shenanigans! however, this time it's with my own OC kids! my friend and i have had these characters in the works for ages, and i'm excited that you get to meet them ! i'm definitely going to be coming back to them, so i'm very excited to introduce them to you guys!! (i think everyone who makes matt OC kids names at least one of them jack, so it's something we can all collectively agree on! but all jacks are different!) 
> 
> ♡( ◡‿◡ ) as always, please let me know what you guys think! happy holidays!

 

The snow squishes beneath everyone’s boots, and the twins seem to get a kick out of it because they keep walking in place, and tapping their boots around to find the _crunchiest_ of crunchy snow. 

 

“Crunch,” murmurs Declan to himself as he steps down. With a satisfied little giggle, he shuffles forward a little bit, “Crunch, crunch, crunch…” 

 

“Daddy?” Claire reaches up and takes Matt’s gloved hand in hers, struggling to grasp at him with her padded mitten, “Do you know what snow looks like?” 

 

Matt taps his cane against the snow lightly as they walk together, nodding. “Yes, I do,” he replies, keeping an ear out for Foggy and Jack. They’re hidden behind a tree a ways ahead of them, and Matt hears them packing snow together and rolling it into balls. He has to be prepared for an ambush at any given moment, but not _too_ prepared. “But it’s been a while—why don’t you tell me? Refresh my memory?” 

 

“It’s white,” she starts off. She pauses and hops forward, giving a happy wiggle when the snow crunches under her boots. “And it’s all the way up to my knees…! And it’s crunchy on the top—and fluffy on the bottom!” 

 

“Like leftover mashed potatoes!” Declan adds, gripping Matt’s other arm tightly. He presses close and nuzzles his face against Matt’s winter coat. Claire likes to wander off and explore on her own, but not Declan; he always wants to be as close as possible, and needs a little nudge in order to strive for independence. Dropping him off at his first day of kindergarten a few months ago was a _nightmare_. 

 

Matt laughs. “Leftover mashed potatoes, huh?” he asks with a wry smile. “Sounds delicious.” His twins nestle close to him, content just to walk together after a wild afternoon of playing in the park. Snowmen were built, snow angels were made, and noses became red and chilly. Now, it’s time to go home for hot chocolate, and hot baths, and warm PJs. 

 

Well…it’s _almost_ time to go home. 

 

Behind the tree, Jack’s feeding Foggy a vague game plan. 

 

_“I’ll get him from the front, and then you come in and take him from the back! He’ll never see it coming!”_

 

_“I don’t think he can see_ **_anything_ ** _coming, Jacko…”_

 

Declan gives another little hop, delighting in the crackle of the snow underneath his boots. Matt taps the toe of his boot with his cane playfully, and then does the same thing to Claire. He doesn’t need to see to know that they’re smiling. They get cuddly under his arms and press their cold cheeks against him. With them hanging off of him, Matt feels like one of those father penguins who carries their chicks on the tops of their feet. They reach the tree—Jack and Foggy’s home base—and the twins dig their little heels into the snow. 

 

“We can’t go any further!” Claire orders, turning around and pushing against Matt with both hands to keep him in place. 

 

He raises his eyebrows and pretends to be clueless. “What? Why not? We have to find Papa and Jack so we can go home.” 

 

“That’s why!” Declan adds, spinning to face Matt and doing the same thing. They’re both just under forty pounds, so it’s not like their weight could actually _stop_ him. He could bench press them, or hold one in the crook of each arm and curl them like dumbbells; they know that because he’s done it, and it makes them giggle every time. “We gotta wait here so that when Papa and Jack come back, they know where to find us!” 

 

Foggy and Jack vanished about ten minutes ago, claiming that they needed to find a lost mitten; all the while, they’ve been conspiring against Matt and stockpiling snowballs, and Foggy _knows_ that Matt knows about it. But he also knows that Matt won’t ruin their fun. 

 

“Okay. We’ll wait.” Matt plants his cane in the snow and rests both hands on top of it. The city grows quiet as a snowflake falls onto his eyelash. It melts, and a drop of water builds on his eyelash and falls. It splashes against his cheek and a gust of wind chills it almost to a freezing point. The snow in this section of the park smells crisp and clean. It’s peaceful, and Matt basks in it before all Hell breaks loose. 

 

_“YAH!”_ Jack screams as he jumps out from behind the tree and runs their way, arms filled with snowballs. 

 

Matt hears the snowball coming, but has to pretend he doesn’t. He stands there, unflinching, and pretends to be clueless as it soars closer and closer until—

 

_“AGH!”_ It collides with his shoulder. His hands immediately fly to it and he gasps dramatically. “I’m hit! Get behind me, kids! We’re under attack!” Giggling, the twins scurry behind him and cling to his coat. “Where are you, villain?!” he demands, waving his cane and narrowly avoiding hitting Jack’s legs. 

 

Jack laughs victoriously and throws a second snowball with all the force that a seven year old can muster. This one hits Matt square in the chest and he stumbles backwards, arms pinwheeling behind him in “surprise”. 

 

Honestly, he should get an Oscar nomination for this. 

 

His back collides with Foggy’s chest and he whirls around, grabbing his arms. “Foggy!” he cries out in mock relief, clinging to him, “Thank God you’re here to save me!” He lets out a pitiful whine for extra drama and buries his face in his husband’s shoulder, stifling a smile. “I was so scared! This is a hate crime!” 

 

Barely holding back laughter, Foggy gently lifts Matt’s head and touches his cheek. “Aw, _sugarpie_ …” He only uses pet names that wretched and cheesy when he’s about to do something that he knows Matt will hate—like touching his legs with his cold feet in the middle of the night, or swiping a piece of bacon from his plate at breakfast—and Matt braces himself for what’s to come. “I’m so sorry.” Next thing he knows, Matt’s sputtering through a handful of snow smushed directly into his face. Foggy laughs when Matt smacks his arm, but his joy is short lived. 

 

Three snowballs hit the pair of them from three separate directions, and the kids’ secret conspiracy comes to light. 

 

“Jack, dude!” Foggy shouts, raising his arms to brace himself as their kids pelt them with snow. Jack’s snowballs are carefully sculpted and packed tightly, but the twins are more or less just shoveling loose snow at them. “You betrayed me?!” 

 

Jack cackles and scoops up another handful of snow, packing it tightly between his gloves. “That was our secret plan all along!” he declares as he and the twins draw closer, attempting to box them in. 

 

Declan laughs and tosses a handful of snow towards them, but it blows away in the wind. “Sorry, Daddy! Sorry, Papa!” 

 

“It’s just _business_ ,” Claire promises, and she sounds thirty five instead of _five_ five. Matt hears her press down on the snow in her hands, attempting to build something a little more solid and throw-able. 

 

Matt turns to face Foggy and grins. “Wanna make a break for it?” he whispers, grabbing his arm. 

 

Foggy takes his hand and grasps it tightly. “Definitely.” 

 

They allow their kids to abuse them for a little longer, and they get a few hits in, before Foggy pulls the classic _Guys, look at that dog over there!_ fake-out, and they’re off. Matt allows Foggy to drag him behind a tree and press him against it. 

 

“Don’t make a sound,” Foggy whispers, playfully clamping a hand over Matt’s mouth. He’s just barely keeping it together, and if Matt doesn’t kiss him right now to shut them both up, they’re going to burst out laughing and blow their cover. 

 

Three pairs of boots crunch slowly through the snow as the kids search for them while attempting to keep the element of surprise. 

 

“I can’t believe you conspired against me.” Matt adjusts Foggy’s collar and leans in close. “But you got what you deserved.” 

 

“I found them!” cries Declan, and a symphony of running feet and flurried snow grows closer and closer. 

 

Matt does the only thing he can: he grasps Foggy’s chin and drags him into a deep kiss with one hand, and subtly scoops up a handful of snow with the other. The two of them melt into each other, and Foggy is none the wiser of what’s to come. In the short time they have before the kids find them and seal their fates, they kiss languidly and lazily. It’s something they don’t have nearly enough chances to do anymore. Just as their three children surround the tree, barely stifling their _ew_ s, Matt leans closer, takes the hand that’s full of snow… 

 

And shoves it down the back of Foggy’s coat. 

 

Foggy breaks the kiss with a yelp. “Come on!” he cries, curling up against the side of the tree as Matt and the kids pelt him with snow, “You too!? Doesn’t _anyone_ in this family love me?!” 

 

Matt grins as he slowly and deliberately packs a dense snowball in his hands. “Kids,” he begins, taking a step closer to Foggy, “Let’s show Papa just how much we _really_ love him.” 


End file.
